


My head's above the rain and roses

by katnor



Series: Elves in Time [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Charming Elladan, Dragonslayer artwork, Gen, Gorgeous Erestor, Grumpy Elrohir, Irish beer, Jedi Mind Trick, Obsession with religious art, Or not, Saints and elves, Sassy Glorfindel, Slightly disoriented Maglor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-01 10:57:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katnor/pseuds/katnor
Summary: An incidental photo shoot in a church leads to an obsession with a dragonslaying archangel. But how can there be paintings and sculptures across the centuries that look like they depict the same man?





	1. Unsung, against the mold

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of Tolkien's characters, but I like to play with them from time to time. Title is from a Green Day song.

I know precisely when my obsession started. It began rather innocently with a visit to a local medieval church, where I snapped some photos of the artwork. While editing the pictures later, I realised that some of the wooden statues depicted dragon killers. I had photos from different angles, and the details of the dragons were amazing. In one of the fourteenth-century statues you could actually count the claws on the dragon’s forepaw.

After this first photo session I forgot about the dragons for some time, but then I went on a city holiday and took a guided tour of some of the tourist attractions. One of the most popular places was a 15th century church with the walls covered in gorgeous frescoes. These fascinated me, especially the ones with St George and the dragon, and I also found some that the guide claimed depicted the archangel Michael killing a dragon. Lovely though the saint and the angel were, it was really the dragons I was interested in, and my visit resulted in a large number of photos, some of which I even managed to sell. 

The real obsession came much later. One of the local churches from the 14th century was renovated, and under layers of plaster and white paint, lovely frescoes were found, and it turned out they were almost as old as the church itself. They were very painstakingly restored and preserved, and when the church reopened, I went there with my camera, intending to take a few pictures of the interior of the church for my blog. There were several wooden sculptures that had been cleaned and preserved, and I got a really good series of pictures of a pietà that was so well restored the colours on it almost glowed. 

As I meandered around the church, idly snapping pictures, my eyes fell on a fresco I hadn’t noticed before. It depicted an angel, stabbing its spear into a dragonlike creature that writhed at its feet. I stepped closer to inspect it, and the beauty of the painting struck me like a blow to the chest. It looked like no medieval art I’d ever encountered. The angel was beautiful, of course, but in other frescoes I’d seen, it was always a flat, lifeless beauty, more of an impersonal depiction of what beauty was to look like. This angel was so alive, golden hair almost crackling with electricity, to the point that it nearly seemed like a living entity of its own. And its eyes… oh gods, the eyes! The angel wasn’t looking down at the monster it, no he, most definitely he, was fighting. He was looking straight at the spectator, with eyes of such a vivid blue colour they bordered on violet. 

I shook my head violently to clear my thoughts, raised my camera and started taking pictures. When I got home and downloaded them, I realised I had taken close to two hundred photos of just this one fresco. As I zoomed in on the details, I became even more fascinated. It wasn’t just the hair, or the eye colour, or even the fact that the angel’s gaze seemed to follow you when you moved. It was the sheer beauty of his features, the eyebrows that were raised a bit like he was surprised or amused, the full, sensuous mouth that held a tiny, mysterious smile, the high cheekbones, the dimples, oh my, he had dimples! He was perfect, he looked young, fearless and full of joy. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

This began a period in my life that’s a tad embarrassing. I’d drop by the church nearly every week, more often in summer when there were many visiting tourists that made my fangirling less obvious. I took countless photos of the angel, who I’d learned was thought to be the archangel Michael leading the armies of God in the last battle. I went to services on Sundays just to quietly ogle my artistic crush. I even took up painting again and after a few preliminary sketches I made a life-size painting of him that I hung on the wall of my home office. 

It’s safe to say I went a little overboard with it. After extensive research (i.e. googling) I found other pieces of religious art that were reminiscent of my angel. I found photos of other frescoes that had an angel very similar to mine, mainly in South America and the southern parts of Europe, and quite a few in Berlin. Then there was the marble statue on top of a cathedral in Mexico City that looked very much like my angel, only made of marble and considerably grimmer. It really was quite baffling, as the cathedral in Mexico was built in the 1970s, and my local church was at least six hundred years older, not to mention they were on different continents – and yet I could have sworn that the artists had the same model. Which was ridiculous of course. 

I had just sneaked into the church once again to sit down and contemplate my beloved dragon slayer. It was early June, and a Saturday morning, which explains the fact that the church was empty of tourists and locals alike. If anybody was up at this ungodly hour, they were either returning home after a lively night out, or having breakfast. I sat down in my favourite spot and craned my neck to meet the angel’s bright blue eyes, when all of a sudden, I heard the sound of the door opening and closing quietly. I turned my head, a little annoyed that my private moment was being disturbed. At first, I could only see the back of the person entering, as they were turning around to make sure the door shut properly. All I could see was a veritable mane of long, golden hair, loosely caught at the nape of the neck with a bright blue scrunchie. The person was tall and broad-shouldered and casually dressed in loose fitting white linen pants and a white t-shirt with a gold pattern. 

Then they turned around, and I looked straight into eyes that were the exact vivid blue of my angel’s. I let out a gasp, and the man’s eyes narrowed, then widened as his lips drew into a tiny smile. I knew that smile as well as I knew my own, and the dimples, and those high cheekbones… I was looking into the face of the archangel Michael. All that was missing was the folded wings and the spear and I could have believed he had stepped down from the church wall. 

Then I spotted the pointed ears poking up through wavy, golden hair, and that’s when things began to get really strange.  


  
\-----  


  
“Hey… are you going to faint on me?” The angel’s voice was low and melodic, and he sounded slightly worried.

“I… uhh, I’m ok I think… just got up too quickly maybe?” I sank down onto the seat again because my legs really wouldn’t carry me. 

“Here, have some water and give it a moment or two before you try to get up again.” He twisted the cap off a new water bottle and handed it to me with a friendly smile. I took a sip and nodded my thanks. 

“I’m fine now, thank you for the water. I’ll just be…” My words trailed off, as I sneaked a peek at his ears. I couldn’t help staring, because it was so obvious he and the angel were the same. Cover the ears, put him in a white robe and give him wings and a spear and there he was. 

His eyes widened when they met mine, and he turned around and looked at my dragon killer on the wall, then turned back towards me again. “Uh… is there any point in me claiming that is an uncanny, but totally random, resemblance?” 

“I don’t think so”, I mumbled. “I, uh, did some research. You get around a bit don’t you?” He gave me a startled look, then laughed suddenly. He sat down beside me on the bench, stretching his long legs with a contented sigh. 

“Is this a good place to discuss… things? Or should we go someplace more private? I suspect you have questions. I know I do.” 

I shrugged. “We can go to my place. I could show you some of the pictures I’ve gathered over time. And you could tell me who you are. I am assuming your name isn’t Michael? For one, you’re missing the wings.”

“Just call me Fin, that’s the short version of my first name. Are you sure you want to invite me into your home? I mean, you don’t know me, I could be a mass murderer or a vampire…”

“Considering the sun is shining outside, I doubt you’d be a vampire. I’ll just have to take my chances that you’re not a homicidal maniac. Come on, let’s go. I’ll make you coffee… or how are you with caffeine?” I suddenly remembered fantasy novels I’d read that stated elves couldn’t drink anything with caffeine in it. 

“I think you’ve been reading the wrong kind of books. I’m not _that_ kind of elf.” His eyes glittered with humour.

And there it was. He’d said the E word. I hadn’t been sure what to think, but what with the height, beauty and pointed ears, it seemed like a foregone conclusion. But what kind of elf were we talking about here? I glanced at him and made note of the golden hair that would have looked perfect in a L’Oréal commercial, the long lashes, the straight nose, the glowing skin… I did a double take. Now where had I read about elves who glowed? Ah yes… 

“So which one are you? Not Fingon, you’re too blonde for that… Finrod? Finarfin?” He grinned at me but made no comment, just led the way out of the church. “Fingolfin? Finwë? Nah, they had dark hair, right?” I threw him an exasperated look. “Help me out here, I’m out of names!” 

“All the sons of Fëanor had a -fin- in their names”, he pointed out. “Including Fëanor himself. You know, Curufinwë, Nelyafinwë…” We had reached the parking lot by now, and I thumbed the remote to unlock my car. 

“None of them were blonde. That is, if my sources are correct.” 

“They are. They weren’t.” 

I got in the car and slammed the door shut, then changed my mind and opened the window a fraction. “Are you coming or not?” He laughed again, and pointed to a sleek, white sportscar that stood out like a sore thumb in the mostly-empty parking lot.

“I’ll follow you in my car.”

“Figures you’d have something fancy like that”, I muttered and started my car. As I drove off, I checked the rearview mirror and saw the white car following, a still-laughing Fin behind the wheel. I noted he had some kind of vanity plate, and squinted in an effort to make out what the text said. BLRG SLR 1? Now what the actual… Then it hit me. Tall, blonde, beautiful, quick to laughter… what was it Tolkien wrote: _tall and straight; his hair was of shining gold, his face fair and young and fearless and full of joy; his eyes were bright and keen, and his voice like music._

Oh fuck.


	2. I'm the resident leader of the lost and found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when there's an ancient Elven hero in your living room, looking at pictures of himself? And why does it seem like he is hiding something even when he's telling stories for all he's worth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be two chapters. Now I bumped it to three. We'll see if it's done after that... with new characters entering the game, there's no way of knowing.

I stared out the kitchen window as I measured the coffee and turned on the coffee maker. It felt odd, doing something so mundane while an ancient Elven warrior was sitting in my living room, going through some of my professional photo folders. I got out my favourite coffee mugs and placed them on the kitchen counter, then decided to go check what Fin was doing. 

He wasn’t in the living room. The door to my office was ajar, though, and I groaned quietly as I realised what he was probably doing right now. I pushed the door open and stepped inside to find Fin, no, call him by his full name, Glorfindel, standing in front of the full-size portrait of the dragonslaying archangel bearing his face. He turned around and beamed at me.

“You’re talented. It looks exactly like the fresco. And like me!” 

“It was supposed to. I don’t paint much anymore, photography is what puts food on my table… but I wanted to see if I could do it.” 

He nodded thoughtfully. “Was that the only reason?” 

I hesitated. Now how would I explain my crush on a fictive character who turned out not to be so fictive after all? “I thought the image was very beautiful, of course… _you’re_ beautiful. I’m an artist – I enjoy looking at lovely things.” 

Glorfindel’s grin could have lit up the entire village. “Why thank you!” He tossed his golden hair and fluttered his lashes, doing a decent impression of a teenage girl. 

“I think the coffee’s ready”, I muttered, turning away to hide my blush. The soft laugh that trailed me to the kitchen told me I’d failed. 

After I’d managed to force my blush down, I poured the coffee and joined Glorfindel in the living room. He was seated on the couch, poring over a huge folder with my photographs. 

“These are magnificent!” He pointed to a group of close-ups of the pietà that was the pride and joy of the local parish. I nodded, hoping he’d drop the teasing and concentrate more on my artwork than on my obsession. 

No such luck.

“You said you had more pictures, pictures you’d gathered over time? Ones you didn’t take yourself?” 

“I do.” I dug out the folder where I kept the photos and sketches I’d printed from the internet. “This one is one of the most recent, it was made sometime in the 1970’s. Did you really go to Mexico?” 

“It’s a big world and I’ve had lots of time to travel”, he answered without answering my question. I huffed with irritation, and he gave me a quick smile. “Yes, I went to Mexico. I spent a few decades in Central America after the war.”

“Which one?”

He tapped the tip of my nose with a long, slim index finger and smiled. “Ah yes, I forgot your kind start wars at the drop of a hat. I was talking about World War II.”

“And elves are so wise and peaceful, unlike _my_ kind, they’d never dream of going to war over some bling…” I didn’t mean for my voice to sound so biting, but his comment about _my kind_ really irked me. 

He winced. “I guess I deserved that one. I apologise if I offended you. Do you suppose we could start over? Hello, my name is Glorfindel, I like to model for artists and I’m older than dirt. My main vices are strong coffee and women. Strong women that is.” 

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react to that comment, so I turned to the folder again and pointed out some of the details on the statue in Mexico City. 

And yes, it turned out I was right. He _had_ modelled for artists around the world, in earlier centuries mostly for religious art, but there were quite a few 20th century paintings too, and they were decidedly non-religious in nature. 

“Picasso wasn’t really to my taste”, Glorfindel admitted with a grimace. “Too modern for me. But I liked working with Toulouse-Lautrec. I got to ride some fine horses so he could paint me as a cuirassier.” 

As the day wore on and we talked about Fin’s travels through the centuries, I began to see a pattern to his stories. He’d start saying something about a person and then break off in mid-sentence, and when he picked up the narrative again, he’d be talking about something completely different. At first, I thought he was just forgetting what he’d been talking about, but one thing I had learned from reading everything Tolkien wrote about Middle-earth was that elves don’t forget. They remember everything, which is both a blessing and a curse. So if he wasn’t just a bit absent-minded, why was he doing that? 

Then I noticed something else. He’d avoid naming people he’d spent time with. Not all of them, but sometimes he’d start talking about a person who’d been with him at an event, and he’d clearly make up a fake name. At other times, he’d say the first syllable and then sort of swallow the rest of the name. He was lying to me, that much I was certain of, but why? He was obviously not a very good liar, and I was hardly a threat to him, so why bother lying? Was he just trying to protect himself – after all, he didn’t really know me, and all this business with my photographs of the fresco and my extensive collection of downloaded art from the internet… it could come across as slightly obsessive, still there was something that didn’t ring true there.

Then it hit me. He wasn’t protecting himself, it was someone else he didn’t want me to find out about. Perhaps several someones. 

“So are there others like you still around?” I interrupted Glorfindel in the middle of a funny story about some American millionaire with too much money and too little sense. He froze, eyes filling with something that almost looked like panic. 

“N-no… I’m the only one left.” 

He was lying of course. I wasn’t going to say that to his face though – I did have some sense of self-preservation, and I didn’t think he’d appreciate being called a liar even if it was the truth. I went on as if I hadn’t heard him:

“So who could be in this world still? Elrond sailed, I remember reading about that. Come to think of twins though… so are they still around? Elladan and Elrohir? How about Erestor? And then there were the woodelves, I know Tolkien wrote about Legolas sailing, but his father, Thranduil, what did he do?” 

Glorfindel looked down at his hands that were cupped around his fourth mug of coffee for the day. He sighed and looked up at me, his expression oddly both relieved and reluctant. He shook his head a little, and I realised he wasn’t being deliberately deceptive. “You’re not allowed to tell me, are you?” He shook his head again. 

“Can you answer with yes and no if I pose questions?” At his nod, I launched into a long list of names of elves that I at least knew were alive at the end of The Lord of the Rings. Glorfindel answered shortly and succinctly, and after a few minutes I had a list of elves that apparently were still wandering the earth. 

“Maglor?” I was still trying to wrap my head around that one. 

“Well, nobody’s seen him for the last two centuries, but we think so. There’s been… incidents. Strange new music that nobody can really explain where it came from. And what other explanation is there for emo?”

What indeed, I thought. Then I looked up at Glorfindel. “Is that everyone you know of?” 

He shrugged. “There are others, but some I don’t know personally and others… well, there was this actor who played a minor character in one of the Hobbit movies. I don’t know his name, his real name, but he got very popular among the fans, who thought he was cute. His character’s name was Meludir. All I know is, those ears weren’t fake.”

“How can you tell? I mean, if you don’t know him?” 

He gave me a slightly condescending smile. “I can tell” was all he said. At that moment, his cell phone started blasting out some annoying pop song that apparently served as a ringtone. He gave me an apologetic look and answered with a short “yes?”. The person on the other end spoke very quickly, and loudly, I could hear him clearly but unfortunately I didn’t understand a word. Glorfindel held up a hand as if the other person could see him, and tried several times to interrupt the tirade, to no effect. Finally he lost patience and barked out: “Erestor! Daro!” and launched into a lengthy monologue of his own, after which followed a short discussion that sounded less vitriolic. Finally he ended the call and put his phone away. 

“Don’t kill me now. I should probably have asked first, but… anyway, there’ll be someone joining us in a little while. You do want to meet Erestor, don’t you?” 

Oh fuck.


	3. Forget-me-nots and second thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Erestor and realise that elves can be rude and gorgeous at the same time.

“I have to ask. Why did Erestor happen to be close enough that he can be here ‘in a little while’? Are you two travelling together?” I glared at Fin, who shrugged and gave me an innocent look.

“We’re not travelling together, as you put it. We keep in touch, but we get on each other’s nerves if we’re in close contact too much. Erestor isn’t the most patient at the best of times, and I can be a little… extra, one could perhaps say.” 

“No, really?”

“Now don’t be like that. You sound like Erestor. And about him… you might want to practise your poker face. And for the love of Eru, don’t drool openly.”

I stared at Glorfindel, who winked and made a weird gesture I gathered was supposed to mean Erestor was somewhat attractive. Boy, did I ever get that wrong…

I looked out of the kitchen window at the sound of a powerful engine pulling up outside. A huge motorcycle rolled into my yard and stopped neatly outside the window. The man that got off it was tall and slender, built more like a dancer than a warrior. He was wearing biker leathers that fit him like a second skin, and when he raised his hands to pull off the helmet, my eyes glued themselves to his legs and ass in black leather pants. _Oh my. Oh yum._

Then he got the helmet off and shook out a fall of straight, blue-black hair that reached his waist, and I suddenly realised my mouth was so dry I couldn’t have uttered a word at that moment. Glorfindel gave me a quick, knowing look and handed me a glass of water. I had no idea just when he had filled it, but I downed it in seconds and felt a little more like myself. I looked out the window again, and there was no one there, but as I heard the front door open, I gathered I would get to meet this vision of a male in a moment.

He stood in the doorway and looked from Glorfindel to me, not even a hint of a smile on his full lips. Erestor was by far the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Glorfindel was lovely in an angelic sort of way, but Erestor was sin on two legs. He’d taken his leather jacket off, and underneath it he wore a t-shirt of a silky, dark green material that clung to him in all the right places. That lovely fall of black hair was perfect, not a hair out of order, and his dark amber eyes were a little slanted, with dark eyebrows like wings, giving him a sardonic air. He had a straight nose, high cheekbones and full, pale lips. He was so goddamn sexy I literally could not take my eyes off him. 

Fin cleared his throat loudly beside me and surreptitiously dug his elbow into my ribs. I managed to close my mouth and threw him a thankful look. I must have been standing there gawking like a fool for quite some time, because Erestor smiled a thin smile and raised an eyebrow at Glorfindel.

“So, this is the artist who’s been collecting your portraits?” His voice was just as sexy as the rest of him, smoky and seductive and surprisingly deep.

“She’s put two and two together, yes. I didn’t really think I could get away with saying it was a superficial resemblance.” Fin sounded almost defensive.

“I told you it was a moronic idea to model for artists for so many centuries. Someone was bound to notice, sooner or later.”

“As if you haven’t done your fair bit of posing for painters”, Glorfindel retorted. 

“The difference is, I’ve changed my looks from time to time. You’ve kept that stupid lion’s mane all the time, and it’s a bit conspicuous. I’ve done everything from crew cut to mohawk to waist-long.”

I couldn’t stay quiet anymore, especially when I saw Fin’s woebegone expression. “Are you saying changing your hair style is enough that people wouldn’t recognise you from one painting to another?” I asked rather waspishly. 

“You’d be surprised”, was Erestor’s reply. “Even in the Dark Ages your kind had a tendency to only believe in what fit their world view. Elves were rarely included in it. Needless to say, we stayed away from Ireland and Scotland in those days.”

“We avoided Scandinavia too”, Glorfindel reminded him. 

Erestor grimaced. “Being mistaken for a woodwife was the least of our troubles there. The lack of personal hygiene was a worse one. I took to sleeping in barns and stables in those days, the animals smelled way better than their owners.” 

I was getting a little annoyed with all this talk about “my kind” and Erestor’s condescending manner. He might be drop-dead gorgeous, but that didn’t give him the right to put down humans, or walk roughshod over Glorfindel, who was as sweet as they came. 

“I always thought elves were civilized and courteous”, I bit out. “Especially one who used to be counsellor to the lord of Imladris. I guess I was too naïve. Why would elves be any different from humans, or any better?” I held Erestor’s gaze without looking away, so furious with his arrogance I forgot to be awed by his beauty. 

There was a long silence, during which I realised, with a sinking feeling, that I had just chewed out one of the Eldar, many millennia old and known for his wisdom. Then I felt Glorfindel’s hand lightly squeeze my shoulder. A beat of silence, then another, and Erestor sighed deeply.

“I apologise for my bad manners”, he said. “I forgot what it sounds like when I talk to Fin. We’ve known each other for so long, I can be pretty rude to him at times. We _are_ friends, no matter what it sounds like.” He hesitated, and I got the feeling he didn’t offer apologies very often. “As for my remarks about humans… I didn’t mean to sound so patronizing, and I certainly didn’t want to offend you. From what Glorfindel told me, you’ve been nothing but kind to him, and you seem to have great knowledge about our kind.” He lowered those lovely eyes, a small blush rising in his cheeks. 

I studied him silently for a while, then nodded. “Apology accepted.”

“Now then… you said something on the phone about trouble ‘Res? What kind of trouble?” Glorfindel broke the silence at last. Erestor sighed deeply and shook his head.

“Real trouble Fin. Elladan’s in prison.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and I added more chapters... I'm so sorry people, I really thought this would be it. But no. Of course not, not when Erestor enters the picture.  
>  Here's the fanart I used as a reference for Erestor: http://www.libraryofmoria.com/a/viewstory.php?sid=1563&chapter=1


	4. Silence is the enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what happened to Elladan, and the trio start making plans to get him out of jail.

It was very silent in my kitchen. Extremely so, considering there were two elves and one, rather confused, human (me) in it. 

Erestor’s last statement had obviously robbed Glorfindel of the ability to speak. I was desperately trying to wrap my head around the fact that Elladan, son of Elrond Half-Elven, grandson of Eärendil the Mariner, great-grandson of Idril Celebrindal, great-great-grandson of Turgon the Wise, great-great-great-grandson of Fingolfin – oh, you get it, he had a really impressive pedigree – that this elven lord was in jail. The question that followed was why. The question directly after that was what we would do about it.

You’ll notice I included myself in that last sentence. I’m dumb that way.

“Jail?” Fin’s voice was flat. It promised all kinds of bad things to someone. Those who jailed the Elf lord perhaps. Then again…

“He hasn’t been convicted, no trial yet. But he’s been arrested and kept in custody.”

“What did he do this time?” 

I could understand being furious, or appalled, but resigned?

Erestor shook his head silently. “I’ll tell you, but I’d rather do it sitting down. And I could do with a drink, if that’s not too forward of me?” He threw me a look that was somewhere between apologetic and challenging.

“It’s a bit early for a drink isn’t it Erestor?” Glorfindel’s voice was mild, but slightly disapproving.

“You know what, it _is_ a bit early, but I could do with a drink as well”, I sighed. “Too many elves for one morning.” I went over to the fridge and retrieved three beer cans from it. 

Erestor let out a strange sound, and I thought I’d offended him badly with my comment. Then he burst out laughing. Between whoops of laughter, he choked out: “I do like you, my lady! _Too many elves for one morning_ , help me Fin, I can’t breathe!” He got a hold of himself at last, just letting out a giggle every now and then as he sank down on one of the kitchen chairs, crossing his legs nonchalantly and popping the beer can open. He drank deeply from it, sighed appreciatively and grinned at me. 

“Ok, you got your drink. Now spill.” For the first time since I met him early this morning, Fin sounded almost harsh.

Erestor straightened up, his expression growing serious. “Elladan… you know he has a real soft spot for youngsters. Even more than the rest of us.”

Glorfindel nodded grimly and gestured at him to keep talking.

“He met this kid, a young boy dressed as a girl, one night in one of the shadier parts of town…”

“Which town are we talking about?”

“He was in Dublin at the time. Anyway, turns out the boy was a prostitute, and of course our young peredhel lord can’t let something like that pass him by. He has to play the knight in shining armour.”

“Oh no… he didn’t?”

“He did. Went in and trashed the “office” of the man who was responsible for the whole set-up. There wasn’t just one boy… there wasn’t even just boys, there were girls as well. Anyway, as luck would have it, the man has friends in important positions… so Elladan is charged with vandalism, industrial espionage and assault. The industrial espionage, it seems, could be the most serious one. You see, they were shooting, what’s the word, uh, _adult_ movies at the place he trashed. Only it was a legal business… at least on the surface.”

“The world has really changed, and not for the better, if making pornographic movies is considered legal in Ireland.” I was surprised at how even my voice sounded. In fact, I was surprised I wasn’t already curled in a fetal position under my desk.

“Well, the authorities might not be aware of the exact nature of the movies. They’re supposed to be shooting some kind of soap opera at the studio in question”, Erestor answered dryly. 

“So how did he get caught then? It doesn’t sound like those are the kind of people who call the police.” Glorfindel’s voice was even, but he looked strained, like he was trying to keep himself from running off on a rescue mission.

“They didn’t. Elladan stayed behind, holding the bad guys up while the kids got out… and someone got behind him and knocked him out. They might have just gotten rid of him quietly I guess, but he’d brought a mortal friend along to keep watch, and the guy called the police. When they turned up, the baddies decided they wanted to press charges. Nice way of hiding what they were really doing.” 

“How come you know about this?” I asked. “This isn’t Ireland. Wait, do you have some kind of mindspeaking powers, to keep in touch? That would be so cool…”

Erestor laughed and shook his head. “You’ve been reading too much fantasy. We do have _osanwë_ , but not everyone has it, and it doesn’t work over great distances. It was a bit more mundane. You know how the one who’s arrested gets one phone call? Well, that’s just in American movies. You can make more than one call. Elladan called me and asked me if I could “get him out of the nick”. I don’t know where he picks up those awful expressions.” Erestor pulled a face. 

“So… when do we go?” Fin’s expression was an interesting mixture of eager boyscout and stern elven warrior. Rather confusing, if you asked me.

“When do we…” For the first time since he walked in the door, Erestor seemed lost for words, if only for a moment. “Fin – we can’t just go rushing to Ireland to break Elladan out of jail. We need to plan this carefully!” 

“Uh huh. Can we borrow pen and paper?” Glorfindel turned towards me with an absolutely straight face. I gaped at him, but he winked at me and I understood. This was his way of getting back at Erestor for his rudeness earlier. I wondered absently for how many centuries, hell, millennia, they had been treading this dance. I dug a writing pad and a stubby pencil out of one of the kitchen drawers and wordlessly handed it to Fin. 

Erestor groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Glorfindel. No. This isn’t the way to…” His voice was muffled by his hands. 

“Whyever not? You say we need to plan it, so let’s write down what we know and what we can do.” Fin looked and sounded very sincere, but the glint in his eyes told me otherwise. 

“Oh for… give me that!” Erestor wrestled the writing pad and pencil from Glorfindel’s hands and put them on the table. He held the pencil at the ready. “So. We need to go to Ireland. How do we accomplish this quickly?” This was the counsellor manifesting now, I thought, the elf who sat on Elrond’s council, perhaps even Gil-Galad’s if one could believe the fanfiction writers. 

“I’m guessing you guys can’t summon some eagles or stuff anymore?” I know I was being facetious, but Glorfindel’s behaviour was contagious. 

Erestor gave me an unimpressed look. “I don’t know of anyone other than Mithrandir able to summon the eagles. I don’t think Fingon counts. So no, no eagles. Will Ryanair do, my lady?”

“She’s not coming, are you crazy ‘Res?” Fin glared hotly at the black-haired elf who just gave him a cool look and tapped the pencil against the tabletop. 

“Do you honestly think you can make her stay away? Look at her Glorfindel. That’s not the face of a woman who declines an adventure.” 

“Thank you Erestor. It’s not Gandalf dragging me on an adventure, but it will do, I’m coming along. For one, I’ve been to Dublin several times. I know my way around there.”

Glorfindel gave me a helpless look. He opened his mouth as if to say something, looked at Erestor, then back at me and seemed to reconsider. “Oh, all right. I guess the only way to keep you from coming along would be to knock you out.”

“Damn right. So… let me get my laptop and I can try to find us cheap airfare that isn’t Ryanair. For one, I’d prefer a direct flight. Do we need lodgings too?”

“We might as well”, Erestor mused. “We have no idea how hard it will be to get that young idiot out, or how long it will take us. We _will_ get him out though, don’t worry Fin.” He gave the blonde a sympathetic look. “And when we get him out, he’s going to pay all our expenses back. Every damn cent. If he can’t pay, I’ll take it out of his hide.”

For some reason, I didn’t think he was joking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will they manage to get to Ireland without being noticed? Will they get Elladan out? Will the peredhel have money enough to pay their expenses, or will Erestor make good on his threat? Will we find all this out in next chapter?   
> At least I didn't add more chapters this time...


	5. Son of Rage and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue team reaches Dublin and Erestor gets some unexpected news. And how many Elves are there in Ireland anyway?

We ended up flying via Copenhagen after all, just a long enough overlay to get a quick lunch at the airport. Erestor and I opted for a salad and a glass of wine, but Glorfindel insisted on devouring a heap of weird Danish sausages that were bright red and looked really dodgy, chasing them down with something called “Jolt cola” which sounded even more suspicious. I checked the can for the contents and was rather relieved to see it was just regular cola, only heavier on the caffeine. 

This of course meant Glorfindel was even more energetic and annoying for the remainder of the flight. By the time we reached Dublin, I was ready to strangle the pretty blonde, but at the same time I was thankful it was me in the seat next to him and not Erestor. I had a feeling the darker elf would be less restrained than I was. 

“I was beginning to wonder when he’d ask if we’re there yet”, I muttered in Erestor’s ear. He barked out a laugh. 

“You could always have asked the flight attendant for some crayons and paper.” 

I giggled, not feeling guilty in the slightest for making fun of Fin and his enthusiastic, sometimes childlike behaviour. 

We made our way off the plane and through the airport, stopping outside to evaluate the weather (rainy, no surprise there) and discuss our destination. Erestor dug out his phone and checked it absently while arguing with Glorfindel about the pros and cons of rental cars. Suddenly, he tensed, glaring at the phone screen like he wanted to see right through it. (Or bore a hole in it.)

“Elladan sent me a message. Says to pick him up outside the _chokey_. Honestly, I don’t know why he insists on using those horrendous expressions.”

“Probably because he likes to imagine your face when he does”, Glorfindel commented innocently. 

I did my best not to laugh, but at Erestor’s moue of distaste, I couldn’t contain my giggle. He gave me an annoyed look, then grinned reluctantly.

“So Elladan is out of jail then?” I was incredulous. Not that I minded taking a trip to Ireland, but normally, I would have preferred to have a little more time for planning. 

“Sounds like it.” Erestor didn’t sound very happy about the development. 

“That’s good, isn’t it? Right?” I was still a little intimidated by the beautiful counsellor, but surely this would make our work easier? 

He sighed. “I would have preferred that he stayed where he was until we had a chance to plan more. Even if he’s out, it doesn’t necessarily mean the charges are dropped, and if they are, we must ask ourselves why. It could also mean he’s in more danger from the… production company… than when he was locked up.” 

“The longer we stand here talking about it, the more time Elladan has to get himself in more trouble”, Glorfindel interrupted. “I say we rent a car and go pick him up before someone else does.”

“We’re not renting a Lamborghini”, Erestor said flatly. 

“I wasn’t- “ 

“Yes, you were. I know you Fin. We’re renting a sensible car, a SUV or something like it, so there’s room for all four of us and Eru knows how much hardware Elladan has hoarded this time.” 

*********************

The Mustang we ended up with was surprisingly comfortable, although Erestor complained all the way to the jail. Glorfindel just grinned like a particularly smug Cheshire Cat and drove on, and since Dublin wasn’t a large city, we were soon at our destination. A tall, dark-haired man was waiting outside the forbidding gray building. When he spotted the burgundy sportscar, he bounced up and down on the pavement, waving his arms excitedly. 

“So… that’s the grandson of Celeborn the Wise and lady Galadriel?” 

Glorfindel burst out laughing, and even Erestor chuckled at my hesitant question. I pouted a bit, because I didn’t think my question was that funny. The dark-haired half-elf really didn’t look much like I’d pictured an Elf lord. He was wearing black, tight-fitting jeans and a black t-shirt with the words “FËANOR NO” emblazoned in white. His short hair was cut in a stylish undercut, and he was wearing a pair of black-and-white Vans. In short, he looked like any teenager or college student, only prettier than most. 

“Not very impressive is he?” Erestor winked at me. 

I pondered his words. It was true Elladan was nothing like I’d imagined him. Both Glorfindel and Erestor were much more like my mental picture of an Elf noble. Still, there was something about him that hinted at something a little more otherworldly, for lack of a better word. 

Glorfindel, in the meantime, had managed to squeeze the Mustang in between two other cars that were parked outside the jail building. As soon as the car stood still, Elladan tore open the door to the backseat and dove in almost on top of me. 

“Go-go-go before they change their minds and throw me in the slammer again!” he panted out. Glorfindel took off with a squeal of tyres, yodelling happily. Erestor turned in his seat, inspecting the younger Elf like he was some kind of particularly repulsive insect. 

“Do you _have_ to Elladan?” 

“It’s wonderful to see you too, ‘Res. Thank you for picking me up. And thank you too, Fin.” Then he turned his gaze to me, and I was struck with the full impact of eyes of such a light gray they looked silver. He studied me quietly for a few seconds, then fired off a thousand-watt smile that could have melted the coldest heart. “And who might you be my lady?” 

“She is a friend of ours, and she helped organise this rescue mission”, Erestor answered shortly. 

I shook my head in exasperation and introduced myself with a smile and a handshake. Elladan had warm hands, and his palm and long, slender fingers were calloused. I remembered the sons of Elrond were said to be superb warriors, good with both a sword and bow and arrow. 

“So where are we going Elladan?” Glorfindel’s voice was cheerful as always, but there was a hint of steel in it too. “Do you have a place where you’re staying? Things we need to pick up?” 

“I think we’d better not.” The impassive tone made me look at him sharply. He might seem charming and happy-go-lucky, but there was a hard look in his eyes all of a sudden. “I have no idea why they suddenly let me go, without a hearing or a trial or anything really. Just like that. And as you taught me Erestor, if it _seems_ too good to be true, it probably _is_.” 

Erestor nodded. “I’m glad some of my lessons stuck, and you’re right. We need to disappear, and fast.” 

“I knew there was something odd going on when they released me. It was like they forgot about me as soon as they opened the door to the holding cell and let me out. They gave me my wallet and my phone and then just – ignored me?” 

Erestor turned in his seat again, his sharp amber eyes trained on the half-elf. “Would you say they were just playing at it, or was someone, something, making them forget?” 

Elladan pursed his lips thoughtfully. “If I had to guess, I’d say someone made them forget. Is that even possible? Who could do such a thing?” 

Erestor closed his eyes, visibly fighting to hold back sharp words. He stayed that way for a while, obviously thinking the matter through, then opened his eyes and burst out: “Maglor!”

“Say what?” “Huh?” Elladan and I spoke at the same time, he looked just as disbelieving as I felt. 

“I’m not saying he’s behind it, mind you. All I’m saying is, he’s the only I can think of who could manage something like that. Finrod could, but he’s in Valinor and not leaving. Daeron might have, but I know for a fact he’s dead.”

I was chewing furiously on my lower lip, trying to think. Erestor was right, that kind of trick was something Maglor could have pulled off, it was said, after all, that he had power in his voice. Then it hit me:

“There were others as well who had this Jedi mindtrick.”

“Pardon?” Erestor twisted around in his seat so he was almost facing me. 

“There was at least one more I can think of who had that kind of power. One who duelled with Finrod – and won.”

Nobody said a word after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was supposed to be the last chapter - but there was this natural place to end it... and I just knew there had to be one more chapter. I am so sorry people!


	6. I beg to dream and differ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to find elusive elves using magic and maps.

The silence in the car was finally broken by Erestor.

“I am thinking about the accommodation we had reserved. Will you lose a lot of money if we just fail to show up my lady?”

“Not really. I mean, they’ll probably charge for one night at a no-show, but I think my economy can handle that. Why, is there something wrong with the place?”

“I might be too paranoid here, but I would prefer if we left as few traces as possible. This car is… rather visible. We need to return it and find something less conspicuous. If someone were to have spotted the car, they can easily trace us to the rental company, and from there to the airport, and…” He trailed off, but it was enough for me to understand the unspoken words. It was also enough to make me feel as if someone had poured a bucket full of icy water over me. I really didn’t want to think about who or what could have wiped the memories of a whole police department. 

“I agree. We certainly don’t want them to be able to trace anything back to you.” Glorfindel’s voice was calm, but I sensed the underlying worry. 

“No one’s tracing anything or anyone.” Erestor’s sharp interjection cut through the tension in the car. He turned around in his seat again, homing in on me this time. “You understand? We are not going to let anything hurt you. We’ll make sure of that. I give you my word.”

His last words sort of – _shivered_ , I guess is the best word for it, in the air, that suddenly seemed to crackle with lightning. I stared at Erestor, and he stared back, those amber eyes glowing with something otherworldly. It dawned on me that he wasn’t _human_. None of them were. Strangely, it didn’t make me want to scream and run away. 

“I thought you were done with oaths, ‘Res.” Elladan’s voice was almost toneless. 

“Did you hear me swearing by Eru Allfather?” Erestor bit out. “I’ve done enough of that. This isn’t an oath, it’s a promise. That doesn’t mean I’ll go back on my word just because I didn’t mention any divinities.”

“Wait a minute… oaths… do you mean to tell me that you…?” I stared at Erestor with my mouth hanging open. Oaths in Tolkien’s works usually meant grim business and grisly deaths. 

He stared back at me with unruffled calm and raised one dark eyebrow. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re alluding to”, he drawled. I gasped. The gall of him! He knew perfectly well what the mention of oaths would do to me! 

“Erestor, stop teasing the lady.” Fin sounded uncharacteristically stern. “Did we want to drop the car off at the airport again, or how do we do it?”

Erestor appeared to be pondering the question deeply. At last he sighed.

“I think it would be better if you took it back on your own, and the rest of us find another car in the meantime. Give us a call when you’re done, and we’ll pick you up somewhere, not at the airport though.” 

Glorfindel nodded and parked the car, allowing the three of us to get out. He drove off with a jaunty wave, and Erestor sighed again and shook his head.

“I do hope he keeps an eye out for any… suspicious characters.” He threw me a guarded look and pinched his mouth shut. 

“Let’s go find a car”, I suggested. “Something really anonymous and not too big. We don’t have a lot of luggage anyway.” 

When the call came from Glorfindel, reporting he’d returned the car and was now on a city bus headed to Connolly station, we had found a dull beige Volkswagen Polo that would be practically invisible no matter where we went. We picked Fin up at the station and Erestor carefully picked his way out of the city and headed west. 

“So where are we going?” I thought this was a reasonable question, as we hadn’t really made any plans for after we got Elladan out of jail. 

Elladan grinned. “No idea. It seems Erestor just wanted to go walkabout.”

Erestor muttered a few words in a language I didn’t understand, although I understood the tone, which wasn’t flattering. Glorfindel shook his head and mumbled something in the same language, making Erestor laugh. The blonde smiled at me and said:

“We’re stopping for something to eat in a few minutes. We need to find somewhere to stay so we can figure out what happened when Elladan was released, and me and Erestor need to search the island for whoever was responsible. To do that, we need a peaceful place to stay so no one walks in on us when we’re searching.” 

“How are you going to be searching if you’re in one place?” 

“Jedi mind tricks”, Glorfindel answered, at the same time that Erestor said “Human sacrifice”. I looked at Fin, then at Erestor, and decided I really didn’t want to know. Besides, Elladan in the front seat was spluttering with laughter, so I figured I’d been had.

After a fast food lunch, we drove on, and soon enough Erestor spotted a B&B sign and turned off from the main road. The country lane led along high hedgerows and then opened up onto a large barnyard, complete with chickens who scattered out of the car’s way as we drove in. 

An hour later we’d been installed in a separate building a little further down the road. The house was an old, converted barn, surrounded by an orchard and some beehives. There were four bedrooms, so we could all have our own, which was a relief. Once we’d settled in, Erestor and Glorfindel made themselves comfortable in the living room. Elladan seated himself in an armchair next to the sofa and looked at them both.

“You’ll need me to anchor, I guess?”

“That’d be good, as you’re the only one here who’s trained in it. Pull us out in half an hour if we haven’t come up by ourselves by that time.” Glorfindel sounded so casual, and I really had no idea what they were talking about.

“Would someone please explain to me what it is you’re going to do?” I probably sounded bitchy, but I felt it too and wasn’t in the mood to sugarcoat my question.

“Think of it as meditating, or going into a trance perhaps”, Erestor suggested. “Only what we’re doing differs a bit from meditation. We’re not exactly relaxing, we’re going into a hyperaware mode, and while we’re in that mode, we’ll be… I’m trying very hard to find a word that fits here… we’ll be sniffing, you might say, for tiny whiffs of magic use. Or what you’d call magic, anyway. It’s easy to get lost while you’re doing this kind of work, so we need Elladan to keep an eye on us and shake us out of it if need be.” 

“So essentially, you’re magic bloodhounds and you’re trying to catch the scent of whoever was behind Elladan’s release, and then go baying after them?” 

Erestor looked like he’d bitten into a lemon, and both Glorfindel and Elladan burst out laughing. 

“You have to admit it’s not a bad metaphor”, Elladan chortled. 

“I suppose not, but… bloodhounds are so… slobbery!” Erestor wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“They are not!” I defended. “Or, well, they are, but they slobber very adorably. Their slobber is cute!” 

“Perhaps we should get on with the business at hand, and discuss canine drool at some other time”, Erestor sniffed. 

It all looked very simple on the surface. Glorfindel and Erestor just settled deeper into the sofa cushions, to the point where they were almost lying down, closed their eyes and that was it. Elladan moved a little closer and laid a hand on both elves’ shoulder and closed his eyes as well. I felt quite silly sitting there with nothing to do, so I left to get a glass of water from the kitchen. When I returned, they hadn’t moved at all from their positions and all was quiet. 

I sat down in the other armchair and kept my eyes on them. They weren’t moving, in fact, they were barely breathing. I could see Elladan’s eyes moving under his eyelids though, and the effect was astonishing, like he was asleep sitting there, only I knew he was probably more awake than I was. 

And then, just like that, Elladan gasped and opened his eyes, Glorfindel’s eyes shot open too, but Erestor… he remained seated, but his face went deathly pale, and he bit his lip so hard blood trickled down his chin. Elladan jumped to his feet, grabbing Erestor by the shoulders and started pleading with him to come back, his voice breaking in fear. I had no idea what was going on, but clearly something was very wrong, Erestor wasn’t waking up from his trance thing and Elladan was panicking. Glorfindel took his hands and gently lifted them away from Erestor’s shoulders.

“That isn’t going to help him now Elladan. Leave him be. He’s strong, he’ll find his way back soon.”

We just sat there, all three of us, watching Erestor’s pale features and the blood that was still trickling sluggishly from his bitten lip. What if he never woke up again, I wondered. What would we do with a comatose elf in Ireland?

I was in the kitchen making tea for the distressed Elladan when Erestor finally woke up from his strange nap. I heard Fin’s delighted exclamation and the peredhel’s shout of relief, and rushed back to the living room to find Erestor being hugged by Elladan, while Glorfindel just patted his back gently. 

“What happened ‘Res?” Elladan had finally let go of the older elf and stared at him accusingly. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks!” 

“Well, I didn’t. Not intentionally. I just happened to spring a trap, if you could call it that… something left behind to deal with curious talented people. A watchdog.” 

“A what?” I stared at the dark-haired elf in confusion. 

“Can I have something to drink? It was a bit more work than I thought.” Erestor sounded exhausted, but in strangely high spirits at the same time. 

I got Glorfindel to help me carry the mugs of tea to the living room, and then I sat down beside Erestor and gave him a hard look. 

“Now, you’d better start talking mister Elf. You scared the living daylights out of us – yes, you too Fin, don’t bother denying it – and we would like to know just what you were up to and what you found out.”

Erestor chuckled quietly and sipped his tea, looking for all the world like a proper Regency gentleman in his sitting room, apart from his waist-long black hair and the pointed ears.

“I was following a scent that felt familiar”, he began. “I haven’t felt it in many millennia, but I’d know it anywhere. It was Makalaurë, Fin, I’m certain of it!” He fell quiet then, pursed his lips thoughtfully, and continued: “He was the one who got Elladan out, I’m fairly sure. He is very subtle, leaves very little traces of his song, but enough of it lingered for me to recognise. Then I got careless. Yes, Elladan, I do that at times. I locked onto his trail and started following it, when I realised there was another distinct signature all over the police station. It rattled me enough that I lost the thread of Makalaurë’s song, and I triggered _something_ , something that was left there to deal with people who got too close to the one leaving magical traces all over the police force and the movie production company. I had to throw up shields in a hurry, and I got a little sloppy, and… I bit my lip to keep from screaming.”

“What was it Erestor? Who was it? You said you recognised the signature?”

“It seems our young lady here was on the right track. It was Him. Or what’s left of him, anyway. I don’t think he’s as powerful as he used to be, not with the One gone, but he still has some of his song powers. And uses them to manipulate the human world, I’d say.”

“Are you saying that Sa – that the Dark Lord is hanging around the porn industry stirring up trouble?” I was incredulous, and at the same time I knew this was not something Erestor would joke about. I looked around the room, and saw Glorfindel thoughtfully twisting a golden lock between his fingers. Elladan was paler than I’d ever seen him, and his eyes were huge with shock. 

“I wouldn’t have believed it myself, but the signature was unmistakable. He’s here. That’s the bad news. The good news is, he’s weakened. Very much so. I believe Maglor could take him now, in a duel of song, quite easily. If he’s – in his right mind. I’m not so sure he is though…”

“We need to find him, ‘Res – Maglor, I mean! We can’t let Gorthaur stir up trouble in the human world, we need to stop him somehow, and Maglor is probably our best chance!” Glorfindel sounded distraught and hopeful at the same time. 

“I know, Fin. But I can tell you right now, it won’t be an easy task! Maglor is half-mad and paranoid, and if the enemy finds out he’s around… well… I don’t need to tell you we have to find Maglor before He does.” 

“I thought you said Maglor could take Sau… him in a fight?” I stuttered a bit, not really sure if it was all right to say Sauron’s name out loud. I remembered vaguely from the books that his name was avoided most of the time for some reason. I needed to ask about that later.

“Yes, with Sauron weakened as much as he is, I’m fairly sure Maglor could take him in a fair fight, half-mad or no. But that’s just it. Sauron doesn’t do fair fights. His powers may be mostly gone, but he still has his devious mind.”

I felt a little faint, and there was a prickling feeling in the back of my neck, like somebody was watching me. I had these feelings now and then, but this time it was rather intense and almost made me want to scream. I fidgeted, the uneasy feeling growing all the time. Elladan turned his head towards me and gave me a sharp look.

“Is there something wrong? Are you…?” He darted over to me, taking hold of my shoulders and gently easing me towards the backrest of the sofa. Erestor leaned over and touched a hand to my brow and gasped.

“She’s ice cold! Quick, get some blankets! Fin, get the kettle on, we need more tea!” 

I just sat there on the couch, shivering so much my teeth rattled, scared out of my mind all of a sudden. Elladan laid his hands on my temples, pressing lightly and chanted something under his breath. I felt the panic and breathlessness slowly subsiding, leaving me light-headed but feeling more in control of myself. I was still cold though. Erestor wrapped a soft blanket around my shoulders, and I grabbed the edges of it, turning it into a makeshift cloak. 

Fin returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug in his hand. He set it down on the table in front of me and gave me a concerned look.

“Are you ok? What happened?” 

I grabbed the mug and gulped down a scalding hot mouthful of tea, grimacing as it made its burning way down my throat. 

“I, uh, I had a panic attack of sorts, I think. I’ve had them before, but it felt different this time somehow.”

Elladan shook his head. “That was no ordinary panic attack”, he said. “You were reacting to something. Did you feel like someone was watching you?”

I nodded. It definitely felt that way, and yes, I’d had that feeling before, but not like this. What I’d felt now was a sense of malice, and it made me want to crawl into a corner and pull the blanket over my head. So of course I did the opposite. I threw the blanket to the side, got to my feet and said:

“What’s a girl got to do in this country to get a drink?”

Elladan stared at me like I’d grown a second head, but Erestor laughed and got to his feet as well. 

“I should think a girl wouldn’t have to do too much. There are quite a few pubs and bars in Ireland. What do you say we head into the nearest town and get a pub dinner and a pint?” 

It felt almost festive to retreat to my room, change out of my travelling clothes and into something suitable for a night at a pub and put a little make-up on. I was ready in just a couple of minutes, then quickly styled my hair (pulled a gelled hand through it to make it look artfully mussed) and found a pair of clunky boots that added a couple of inches to my height. Necessary in order not to feel like a midget in the company of three gorgeous elves who also happened to be unnecessarily tall. 

I was the first one outside by the car. Were elves by any chance vain? A few minutes later Elladan joined me in the yard. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned.

“Erestor will be another few minutes. Fin, well… let’s just say it takes him a while to tame that hair and put himself in acceptable order.”

“You were fairly quick to get ready”, I noted. 

“In all honesty, I am the only one beside you with short hair. Makes it so much easier, doesn’t it? And of course it helps that I don’t have any clothes to change into. All my things are at the boarding house where I was staying.” 

“Couldn’t you have borrowed something? Maybe not from Glorfindel, you’re not really the same size, but from Erestor?” 

“I guess… but it doesn’t feel right somehow. He used to be my teacher when I was an elfling, and he’s somewhat more conservative in his clothing style than I am.”

I thought of the Erestor I had first met, in skintight leather and silk, and decided not to comment. Children usually don’t want to think of their parents in any other roles than parental, and I gathered Erestor had been something of a father figure to Elladan. He didn’t need to know my initial reaction to the lovely dark-haired counsellor.

“We should go shopping for some clothes for you”, I pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have some basics at least, and a toothbrush maybe?” 

He laughed. “Clean underwear would be fantastic! I haven’t really been able to change since I was arrested, so when they let me out I just threw the pair I had on away before leaving… it’s not uncomfortable going commando, but still…”

“I did not need to know that”, I said primly. “I _so_ did not need to know that.” 

And then we both burst out laughing. It was strange how easy it was to be around Elladan. He was younger than the other two elves, of course, but he was still many thousands of years older than me. Maybe it was his Mannish heritage, maybe it was his quirky sense of humour and his jaunty way of speaking, but I felt like we’d known each other much longer than the few hours it was in reality. 

Then Erestor came out to the car, and in another ten minutes, Glorfindel joined us. We piled into the Golf, Erestor insisted on driving, and took off for the nearest town, about twenty minutes drive from our B&B. We stopped once on the way, so Elladan could buy himself some necessities like a hairbrush, toothbrush and underwear. He insisted on showing me everything he’d acquired, and it ended with me hitting him repeatedly over the head with the hairbrush to stop him from waving his new boxer briefs in my face. 

Glorfindel just laughed at our antics, but Erestor made a sour comment about having to find a restaurant that had a children’s menu, since it was obvious there were at least two in the car. This made Elladan call him Grandpa, at which point Erestor threatened to stop the car and have him walk the rest of the way. 

“Anyway, you have enough grandfathers without adding one more to the collection”, he added finally. “I just hope we can find the wayward one before Sauron does. There’s no telling what would happen if he managed to capture Maglor. We’re talking about a son of Fëanor here. Who knows what he’s capable of after surviving all these millennia on his own? He might be a match for any Maia by now. Our powers generally grow with age, provided we survive to use them.”

Glorfindel nodded, looking serious for once. “Maglor always had a lot of power in his voice alone, and when paired with an instrument, he could literally raze mountains. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the fact that it took a lot of energy, and it was a rather blunt weapon. It would have done as much damage to friends as to foes. Although when Maitimo was taken, he nearly did it anyway. Didn’t he, Erestor?”

Erestor nodded grimly. He’d just managed to find a parking space for the car, and now he turned around and looked at Elladan and me. “We’ll continue this particular discussion later when we’re back at our barn. Better keep a low profile while we’re among people.”

The town wasn’t large, but like in most Irish cities every third building was a pub, so we had no problem finding a place for dinner. The pub we ended up in had the standard dark varnished wood panelling, dark furniture and a bar with dark wood and lots of brass ornaments. We found a booth at the back of the pub and made ourselves comfortable. Before long a waiter came bustling to the table, bringing us the menu, which contained four items, three with potatoes, and asking for our choice of drinks. I settled for a pint of Smithwick’s, a luxury I hadn’t indulged in since my last visit to Ireland, Elladan and Glorfindel went with a pint of “the black stuff” and Erestor asked for a Caffrey’s. We perused the menu quickly and ordered fish’n’chips for Elladan and me, colcannon for Erestor and a curry for Glorfindel. 

The pints were brought in after a while, and the food didn’t take long to arrive either. We ate heartily, all of us hungry since the last meal we had was a hurried lunch at that roadside fast food restaurant many hours ago. The food came with fresh bread, still warm from the oven, and real butter. I'd almost forgotten how much I loved well-made fish’n’chips, and pigged out completely, moaning happily for every forkful I put in my mouth. At last Glorfindel looked at me from across the booth.

“It’s a true delight to hear a lady enjoy her food, but do you think you could tone it down a bit perhaps? The people in the nearest booth are beginning to stare, I think they suspect your resounding enjoyment stems from something other than food.”

Erestor snorted and Elladan burst out laughing, elbowing me in the ribs. I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth, staring disbelievingly at Glorfindel.

“What, they think there’s someone else with us, hidden under the table, is that what you’re trying to say?”

To my delight Fin blushed a very fetching deep red, and Elladan beside me cackled and turned to high-five me. 

“I’ve never seen Fin turn that particular shade of puce before, have you ‘Res?” 

I couldn’t hold back my laughter at that, and at seeing Erestor’s evil grin when he turned to inspect the hapless blonde seated next to him.

“I’m not sure… it might not have been that exact shade, but I seem to recall a time when Fin was trying to fend off a particularly persistent Gondorian lady, a widow, and she groped him, insisting she had to “check the goods”… that colour was fairly close to this. Seems it takes human ladies to make the Balrog Slayer blush.”

“Oh please… please please please ‘Res, don’t drag that up! I’d really rather forget it. If I could.” Glorfindel sighed mournfully. “Do you see now how they torment me? Would it be any wonder if I turned to drink to console myself?” He gave me a pleading look. 

I giggled and leaned across the table to pat his cheek. It hit me then, that it wasn’t just Elladan that had quickly wormed his way into my heart. So had Fin, and to some extent Erestor, although he was so intimidatingly attractive that it was hard for me to treat him in the same friendly way I did the other two. But I cared about all of them, and wanted to help them however I could. 

This revelation continued turning in my mind while we drove back to our accommodation. I wasn’t normally one to take to people easily, and took a long time getting close. Fin had almost literally waltzed into my life, and then Erestor came just after, and finally today, Elladan. They already meant so much to me, and I’d go to almost any lengths to help them. Then it dawned on me that I might be able to do something about our problem with locating Maglor. 

I rushed off to my room at once when we entered our barnhouse accommodation. I dug through my carry-on and found what I was looking for almost immediately. Brandishing the fold-out map, I walked into the living room, waving it triumphantly. 

“We agree that Maglor is still in Ireland, right?”

Erestor looked nonplussed, but nodded. “I’d say so, yes. It’s virtually impossible to manage a feat like that – mind-wipe, or whatever you want to call it, at a distance. Especially when so many people are involved. He was definitely nearby when Elladan was released. And he could have left the country since, I guess, but I got a faint impression he was still around. That’s all I’ve got, sorry.”

“It’s enough for what I have in mind. Are you familiar with the concept of triangulation?” 

I got two elves staring at me like I’d gone crazy, and Erestor (of course) nodding excitedly. 

“Of course, now why the hell didn’t I think of that? We just don’t use paper maps anymore… you’re brilliant my lady! Bring it here!” He swept everything off the coffee table and urged me towards it. I spread the map across the wooden surface, and looked up at Erestor.

“So… how do we do this? More human sacrifice?”

He chuckled and took a seat in the sofa. “I think we can do without that actually. Fin, would you mind helping out here? Elladan, keep an eye on us, we can probably do this without an anchor.”

And off we went…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, I **know** I said we'd be done at 6 chapters. My bad. We'll be done in one more chapter, I promise.


	7. And I'm the only one and I walk alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet the other twin, find a son of Fëanor and everything is right with the world. Is it?

The whole business of trying to locate Maglor using a road map turned out to be rather tedious. The three elves sat down side by side, and Erestor smiled at me.

“Would you mind keeping an eye on us too, my lady? We’re not going to need an anchor, and Elladan will be watching, but just in case we need him to help out with the search itself, it’s good to have someone checking to see that we’re breathing, things like that.”

“Uh, that doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence, you know.” It really didn’t, and I wasn’t sure what I’d do if something happened like last time. 

“Don’t worry, this isn’t dangerous. It’s more like… we’re going to home in on certain locations on the map, for instance, me to the west, Erestor to the east and Elladan sort of hovering above somewhere, think of it as an Elven version of Google Streetview? Then we’ll try and pinpoint Maglor’s location, see if we’re close or if we need to move our search and in what direction.” Glorfindel patted my hand that was clenched hard around my water bottle. 

I swallowed hard and nodded. They just said it wouldn’t be dangerous, and Elladan would be watching too. I was up to this. Ok, maybe not, but how hard could it be? 

As it turned out, it wasn’t hard at all. They just sat there, eyes closed and all three kept one hand hovering above my map (AA Road Map, 2012 edition) and just did nothing. Nothing visible, at least. I was getting a bit bored when all three of them opened their eyes, Erestor groaning and reaching for his mug of tea, grimacing when he realised the tea had gone cold.

“How long were we out?”

“Oh, maybe half an hour or so? I didn’t check the time, but it feels like you’ve been – out – for a while. I’ll make you some more tea.” I got up and went to put the kettle on. When I came back, they were discussing their lack of success with growing frustration. 

“Is the problem the fact that he’s hiding well or why can’t you pinpoint him?” I looked at the three of them, feeling that I ought to be able to help in some way, but not knowing how. 

“Actually, I don’t think it’s so much that he’s hiding well… it’s just… it gets blurry at times and then he's just gone again.” Glorfindel sounded almost petulant. 

“He’s slippery, I’ll give him that. Damn you Makalaurë, we’re not the bad guys here!” Erestor was clearly frustrated. 

I fetched their tea, then sat down again. 

“Ok, so he doesn’t know you’re not the bad guys, am I right?” They all nodded. “So, why don’t you let him know that? I’m guessing he can’t make out who you are when you do this hovering over the map thing. Why not give him a shout somehow? Introduce yourselves? He knows who you all are, so that ought to help.”

“He doesn’t know me.”, Elladan pointed out. “He knows Fin and ‘Res, but not me. I wasn’t born until much later, after he’d disappeared into thin air more or less.”

“I disagree. I think he does know you. Why else would he help get you out of police custody? I doubt he was just walking past and thought, hey, there’s a peredhel in there behind bars, why don’t I make them let him go and wipe everyone’s memory?” 

“You’re absolutely right.” Erestor looked at me like he’d had a revelation. “He must know Elladan. I suspected during the Ages that Maglor wasn’t as absent as we thought. There were times… do you remember Fin? When the boys were born?”

The look in Glorfindel’s eyes grew distant. “That was the time the fords of the Brúinen sang in joy, was it not? We thought it was Elrond, but he seemed not to know anything about it. It happened again when Arwen was born.”

“And the river sang a dirge when Celebrían left for the Havens…” Erestor’s eyes were suspiciously damp. 

“Umm, ok you guys…” I decided to do something about the atmosphere, seeing as Elladan was beginning to look subdued. “What can you do to let Maglor know who you are? Knock on the door, introduce yourselves? Bring a jar of cookies, a flower pot?”

“A flower pot is out of the question”, Erestor replied primly. “He might be a Noldo, but all elves revere living things and avoid capturing animals, cutting down trees or… potting plants.” The last statement was delivered with a curled upper lip. 

There was a brief silence, then Elladan started giggling, and that set me and Glorfindel off as well. Erestor tried for the longest time to look disapproving, but his lips twitched, betraying him, and he finally broke and started laughing. 

We discussed strategies for a time after that and came up with a rather simple one. Since it was clear Maglor knew Erestor better than the other two (and I was determined I would get the story on that some time), he would reach out with a call on Maglor’s private frequency, or whatever one should call it. This, of course, provided we managed to get a more exact location than “somewhere to the west of where we are”. 

Somewhere to the west… now why was there a nagging feeling that I had the answer right there? Then it hit me:

“Maglor was wandering the seashore for millennia, wasn’t he? It said in the Silmarillion he wandered along the shores of the world, singing his laments. So if he’s west of here, I’d wager he’s somewhere on the west coast. Would he be drawn to places with people, or would he prefer to be alone?”

Glorfindel and Erestor exchanged looks.

“If I were to guess, I’d say he’d go for populated places”, Fin mused. “It’s not so much the people perhaps, as it is the music. He thrives on it, and I think the folk music on this island would delight him.” 

“Then again, with technology these days, he wouldn’t need to be among people in order to have music 24/7”, I pointed out. “He’d need a smart phone and a decent internet connection, that’s all.” 

“True, but I think Fin is right. He’d prefer the music being played live. That way he could join in if he felt like it.” Erestor’s smile was wistful.

“All right then, the west coast it is. Concentrate on the Galway area, maybe Sligo, Limerick… but Galway would be my best bet, as it’s a fairly large town and known for its music scene.” 

They nodded in unison and homed in on the map again. Before they had settled down for the next session, Elladan leapt to his feet, eyes shining. 

“I’m going to leave you to it for a while, I need to make a phone call. Can I borrow your phone Fin?” 

The blonde nodded and threw him the phone, which he caught deftly. He ran outside, and the rest of us stared after him. Fin shrugged minutely, then focused on the map again and closed his eyes. Erestor sat frowning a while, looking towards the empty doorway, then followed Glorfindel’s lead. 

I sat there looking at the two of them a minute or two, then carefully edged towards the window. I knew snooping wasn’t really nice, but I was really curious about what Elladan was up to. I saw him just outside the house, speaking animatedly on the phone. His face was lit up with happiness, and he was gesturing wildly with his free hand. Who was he talking to that made him look like that? I felt a quick stab of something that resembled jealousy, but quickly quashed it. I had no claim to Elladan, and it wasn’t my business if he had a special someone. 

I went back to the sofa and realised to my mortification that the two older elves had come out of their trancelike state and were staring at me. I blushed deeply and sat down, avoiding their eyes. 

“It would have been easier to just ask us.” I’d never heard Fin sound so severe. 

“I know… I’m sorry. I was just…” I broke off, realising I really had no good excuse. 

Just then Elladan entered the room again. He stopped just inside the door, looking at us quizzically. 

“So… what’s up?” None of us answered and he shrugged and went on: “I called Elrohir. He gave me a shout, but he was far enough away that it was easier to talk on the phone. He’s coming to Dublin tomorrow, can we pick him up? Did you find Maglor?”

He got no reply this time either. My mind was reeling, and I couldn’t really have managed any intelligible words at that moment. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about Elladan’s twin earlier, as in Tolkien’s writings they were virtually inseparable. It had just slipped my mind somehow, and I could only blame the fact that we were looking for a son of Fëanor, not to mention we had discovered Sauron was still around. One would have been enough for my mind to go into overdrive. But Elrohir was on his way? He was coming here? 

Erestor was the first to recover. 

“Of course we can pick him up. Did you get his flight details?” At Elladan’s nod, Erestor went on: “We have some news too, and then I think it’s about time we got some sleep. At least our mortal lady is going to need more than a couple of hours.”

“Ah, yes… I forgot to ask about that. How much sleep do you guys need?”

“Not a whole lot. We can get by without sleeping at all for weeks, maybe more, no problem. The older we get, the less sleep we need. You need to sleep though, and now would be a good idea. It’s been a long, long day.” 

“It has indeed, but I would like to know what you found out about…”

“No. Go get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning”, Erestor said firmly. 

I sighed but had to admit sleep sounded like a great idea, as I’d been up for nearly twenty hours at this. I nearly fell into bed and was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

*******

We were served a fantastic Irish breakfast at the main house the next morning. After packing our things, we checked out and headed back towards Dublin and the airport to fetch Elrohir. During the drive, Glorfindel and Erestor gave a short report on their search for Maglor. Very short. It turned out they located him in Galway, but he wouldn’t answer Erestor’s hail, and when Fin tried, he ignored him too. Of course, this meant as soon as Elrohir was on board, we would be heading to Galway. 

There was another little problem we had to solve first, and that was the fact that the Golf was nice enough but put four freakishly tall Elves and one human in it, and it would get rather crowded. We stopped by the car rental to exchange it for a really anonymous black SUV. When we got to the airport Elrohir’s flight had just landed, and we only had to wait a few minutes near the arrivals gate before a tall, dark-haired figure came striding towards us. 

Elladan threw himself at his twin, hugging him hard and mumbling something in his ear before turning around, grinning happily. Glorfindel was next up, embracing the younger elf fondly and patting his back. Erestor’s sharp eyes scanned every detail of the peredhel, then he smiled and gave him a quick hug as well. And then it was my turn. 

Elrohir stepped in front of me, studying me silently for a few seconds. I refused to be intimidated by his cool appraisal, so I repaid him in the same currency. Elrohir had the same delicate facial structure as Elladan did, but then so did the other two elves. His eyes were a light grey, just like Elladan’s, his eyebrows were dark, his hair was just as dark, although longer, and his mouth was just as sensuous. The twins were the same height and build, and it was clear they were siblings. This, however, was where the similarities ended.

One of the things that had endeared Elladan to me from the first time I met him, was his easygoing personality combined with a wicked sense of humour and a certain flirtatiousness. His brother seemed to possess none of those traits. His mouth formed a thin line and his eyes were icy as they trailed over me, noting my short dark hair, the streaks of vivid blue and green in it, my clothes (seriously, what’s wrong with ripped jeans and Doc Martens?) and my general appearance. His eyes stopped at chest level, widening a little as he slowly read the text on my t-shirt. 

“ _Morgoth than you_? Really?”

“It’s very nice to meet you too. You guys all make such great first impressions.” Yes, I do sarcasm from time to time and Elrohir was really beginning to piss me off. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but no sound came out. 

I heard a strange, spluttering noise from Erestor and Glorfindel sounded like a strangling chicken. To my astonishment I realised they were both _laughing_. Next thing I knew, Elladan grabbed me and kissed me soundly on both cheeks, then took my right hand and twirled me around in a little improvised dance. He finished with a flourish and bowed deeply, looking up at me with a huge grin. 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you so much from the very beginning! You can dumbfound Elrohir! I thought the only ones who could shame him to silence were ‘Res and Grandmother!”

Recalling who their grandmother was, I couldn’t help feeling somewhat flattered. I also felt way too many eyes on us, maybe because we were in the middle of Dublin airport and were behaving rather oddly. The fact that I was one lonely goth girl surrounded by four tall, stunningly beautiful males with their attention trained on me probably made this look like a photo or movie shoot. 

“Um, guys… I think we should leave before we draw more attention”, I muttered. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but we were supposed to keep a low profile, yes?” 

We quickly made our way outside the airport terminal and to the car. Elrohir had only a fairly small carry-on that hardly took up any space at all, and once we were all settled in the car, Glorfindel riding in the back with the twins, we were off towards Galway. I was thankful I got to ride shotgun this time, as I wasn’t sure I could be civil towards Elrohir quite yet. I’d wait for his apology before deciding if he was worth my time or not. 

For most part of the drive, I ignored the chatter in the backseat. It seemed to be mostly Fin and Elladan talking, but Elrohir made a comment every now and then. I gathered the twins hadn’t seen each other in quite a while, although exactly how long they’d been apart was never mentioned. I concentrated on the scenery instead, all the different shades of green of the landscape, the rivers, the small towns and villages. We stopped in Athlone to have a quick lunch and I got to admire the river Shannon before we drove on. It was late afternoon when we rolled into Galway and found ourselves a boarding house to stay in. 

Once we’d gotten settled, we gathered in the room Erestor shared with Fin. I dug out my road map again and folded it to show the city maps that were printed on the back of it. Glorfindel and Erestor did a quick search using the map of Galway city, and determined Maglor was indeed within the city limits, and what was more, he seemed to be staying in the same place rather than moving about. 

“So, who’s for going out for a taste of Galway night life?” I was definitely going out, but I’d rather not go alone, in case I ran into Maglor. Or someone else… I shuddered at that thought. No matter that Sauron had lost most of his powers, I really didn’t want to meet him face to face. 

“We’ll all go. We’re not letting you out on your own in case Maglor is out and not in an understanding mood. And there are others.” I was grateful for Erestor’s firm reply. 

We tried a couple of pubs not far from our boarding house first, but there was no live music in either until later in the evening. Then we got lucky, because the next bar had a live band playing when we walked in. It was a large place, with several floors and a big stage. It was still fairly early, so we found a table not far from the stage and made ourselves comfortable. 

We were into our third round of pints when he appeared. Erestor saw him first and hissed out a warning to the rest of us. Elrohir got quietly to his feet and disappeared into the crowd, while I scanned the people closest to us, trying to spot the son of Fëanor. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was bouncing off my ribs, rather painful if you asked me. 

Then I saw him. He was hiding his _otherness_ , but I was used to that by now and recognised him easily. It helped that he was at least half a head taller than anybody else in the bar. His dark hair was caught up in a high ponytail, and his silvery eyes were sharp as they swept the room, watchful but in a strangely relaxed manner. It hit me then that there were probably not many who could take him in a fight, if he had the power in his voice that Glorfindel described. He could probably drop everyone in this place if he needed to. 

And my god, was he beautiful! Glorfindel was my angel, Erestor, as I think I mentioned was sex on legs, and both Elladan and Elrohir were gorgeous, but Maglor was transcendent. I couldn’t understand why the people around him didn’t just fall to their knees and worship him straight away. Even if he masked some of his glow and muted his charisma, it was still enough to make anyone turn into a screaming fangirl. 

I had to literally tear my eyes off him in order not to embarrass myself. I surreptitiously kept an eye on him still, and I could tell the others did too, but no open staring. Then suddenly there was a change in the music coming from the stage. Instead of the folk rock with lots of amplification that had been blasting our ears, there was the strum of a single acoustic guitar, and a voice began singing. And what a voice! It was a man’s voice, fairly deep and throbbing with emotion, and it might sound cliché, but the buzz of the bar died down and all you could hear was that lovely voice singing in a language I didn’t know. 

The elves did though, and it appeared they knew who the singer was too. It wasn’t so hard to figure out, as Elrohir was missing and Elladan was looking pensive. 

I must have been distracted by the singing, because out of the blue there was a son of Fëanor standing next to our table, and I suspected I wasn’t the only one taken by surprise. 

“Elros?” Maglor’s eyes looked unfocused, the earlier sharpness all gone. He tilted his head slightly and looked down at Elladan. “Elrond?” His voice wavered, as if he _knew_ there was something wrong with his memories and he was trying to reconcile what he was seeing and hearing with what he knew was reality. There was a strange buzzing in my ears, and I noted absently that a few people at the table next to ours rubbed their ears and grimaced as if something was bothering them. 

“Makalaurë… please, sit down.” Erestor’s voice was softer than I’d ever heard before. He stretched out a hand and gestured slowly towards a free chair. To my surprise, he had tears in his eyes. Glorfindel looked rather moved as well. 

He sank down onto the chair like his legs had just given out on him. His eyes were still trained on Elladan, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. 

“Elrond? No… it can’t be. And who is that singing in Sindarin?” 

“My name’s Elladan, Elrond is my father. And the singer is my twin brother Elrohir”, Elladan explained. 

“Ah… I remember now, more twins in the family… and a lovely little girl. Where is she, your sister? Arwen?”

Elladan looked down at his hands that were clenched into fists and swallowed hard without answering. I moved closer to him and without even thinking about it put my arm around him, squeezing lightly. The buzzing noise swelled into a crescendo and my ears popped painfully as if I was on a plane having trouble with the air pressure. Glorfindel leaned forward and put a hand on Maglor’s shoulder. 

“Kano… you have to restrain your song. You’re hurting people. Please. I understand this is hard for you, but for their sakes. Our mortal companion here is in pain and she’s not the only one.”

Maglor looked at me then, I mean really looked at me, and his eyes slowly returned to focus again. His chest heaved as if he had been running hard, and his cheeks had bright red spots. I could feel the pressure in my ears easing up and sighed in relief. Elrohir reappeared at our table and glared at me, then looked very pointedly at my arm that was still draped over Elladan’s shoulders. I blushed and made to pull away, but to my surprise Elladan snuggled closer and threw a defiant look at his twin. I felt rather uncomfortable meeting Elrohir’s death glare, as I really didn’t want to be the cause of bad blood between the brothers. 

“Never mind Elrohir. His problem is with me, not you, but he took it out on you from the first moment, and now he’s too pigheaded to come clean and apologise.” Elladan’s voice was low, but I was sure the others at our table could hear every word. 

“And you’re being so very mature and not rubbing my face in it aren’t you?” Elrohir’s reply was full of vitriol. 

“Hey, you guys! One, I’m right here, so if you have a problem with me, say so, two, I don’t appreciate being used as an excuse for getting into some family fight and three, no fratricide please. You two love each other, now deal with it.” I was fed up with this childish behaviour from guys that were thousands of years old. They were scowling at each other, neither of them giving an inch. 

“Boys.” That one word from Erestor had them both sitting bolt upright, eyes downcast, looking for all the world as if they’d had a real dressing-down, instead of just one quiet word from their former tutor. 

And then Maglor laughed. It began as a low chuckle, and grew until he was gasping for air, tears running down his face. All around us people at the neighbouring tables began to laugh as well, some so hard they were doubled over, others wiping tears of mirth. Glorfindel grimaced and grabbed Maglor’s shoulder.

“You need to stop that Makalaurë. Stop it now, or we’ll all be in trouble. You know there are still enemies out there, we need to keep a low profile. Stop, for the love of Eru.”

And just like that, the laughter dissipated. People began looking around uneasily, as if wondering what the hell just happened, and I heard some asking just that. We needed to get out of the place and find somewhere more private. It dawned on me that Maglor might not be precisely mad, but he wasn’t quite stable either. 

“What would you all say to a nightcap and a little talk in private?” I clambered to my feet and grabbed my denim coat and purse. 

“Nightcap?” It was Maglor. 

“I bought a bottle of Connemara single malt at an off license today. We have rooms at a boarding house in town. Questions?” Why was I being facetious talking to a prince of the Noldor? Too much beer and too many elves in one day perhaps? He didn’t seem to mind though, which was a relief. 

“No questions. Are we leaving then?”

Back at the boarding house, I gave them instructions to bring glasses from their rooms since I only had two, plus two teacups in my room. I freshened up quickly, then unlocked the door to let them all in. And let me tell you, this was quite a sight. Five stupidly tall, gorgeous guys with pointed ears filing into my room, finding seats and leaving the luxurious armchair to me. I felt like a queen, if queens wear ripped jeans and t-shirts. 

I’d placed the bottle on the tiny table next to the armchair, and now I made a gesture towards it.

“Be my guests. I bought it in case of an emergency, and this seems about right.”

It was Elrohir who leaned forward first, grabbed the bottle and cracked it open. Then to my immense surprise, he took a glass, filled it halfway up and looked at me questioningly.

“Do you need more my lady? Seeing as you’ve had to put up with a lot of foolishness today, I think you deserve this. I sincerely apologise for being an ass. I’ve been known for doing that from time to time.”

“Uh… apology accepted, although don’t get the idea I’m letting you off easily here. It’s a start though. The drink is fine like that – if I need more I’ll just fill the glass again.”

They all filled their glasses, and we gave a silent toast and took a swig of the whiskey. Then Maglor cleared his throat.

“I feel like I should begin by apologising as well. I lost control over there, briefly, but that was enough to be dangerous. I am usually better at controlling myself, but…” He chuckled uneasily and looked around the room. “It just brought back memories that have been, not forgotten, but buried under other memories. Erestor telling the twins off quietly like that… he sounded just like Nelyo with Elrond and Elros. It’s been a long time since I thought of that. And you boys, you’re so very similar in many ways to my boys, to our boys…” He broke off and turned away and I could see his shoulders shaking.

Erestor shifted closer to Maglor on the edge of the bed and put a hand affectionately on his shoulder. Then he simply turned him around and pulled him into his arms, cradling him gently and mumbling soothing words in yet another language I didn’t understand. They sat like that for some time, while the rest of us looked away to try to give them some privacy. Finally Maglor straightened up and wiped his wet face with the back of his hand, looking embarrassed but relieved at the same time. 

“Are you all right Grandfather?”, came Elladan’s quiet voice from the other side of the bed. His eyes were huge and glistened suspiciously. 

Maglor’s intake of breath was clearly audible in a room that had suddenly gone deathly quiet. He scrambled towards the door, but the twins were faster and positioned themselves between their adopted grandfather and the exit. And then they pounced.

Oh come on, you didn’t think they’d harm him, did you? They smothered him in a double embrace so tight, there was no chance he could get out of it before they decided to let him go. That didn’t look to be happening any time soon. It didn’t look like he was trying very hard to escape either. 

The brothers led Maglor back to the bed and sat down, keeping him between them all the time. They weren’t talking, yet I got the impression there was a lot of communication going on. Erestor and Glorfindel moved closer to me, giving the three more space. Erestor’s eyes were wet, and Fin’s customary cheerfulness was subdued. I waved the whiskey bottle in a silent invitation, and they both nodded and held out their glasses for a refill. 

We sat there in silence for maybe half an hour, nursing our drinks, until the family reunion seemed to come to and end. Elrohir got to his feet and cleared his throat several times, then said in a voice that only wavered a little:

“I guess you know him already… well, maybe not personally my lady… but I’d like to introduce our grandfather Makalaurë. Although he wants to be called Maglor now, and we’re not going to argue over trifles. He may not be our grandfather by blood, but we accept and love and claim him as such and Eru Allfather be our witness.” 

Erestor and Glorfindel gasped, and I swallowed hard. Invoking Eru as witness… somehow made Elrohir’s words ring in the air. The reason for the tears burning in my eyes, however, wasn’t that, but the look in Maglor’s eyes when Elrohir claimed him as kin. I wondered how long he had been without the companionship and love of a family. 

Erestor got to his feet and threw his arms around both boys, and yes, I’ll call them boys if I want to, holding them close and whispering loving words. Fin stretched out his hands and gripped Maglor’s forearms in what I thought was described as a warrior’s greeting, and the two of them just nodded at each other, then let go. 

Then it was my turn. The full power of those silver eyes was turned on me and my legs were jello in seconds. It was a real stroke of luck I was still sitting down, because if I hadn’t been, I might have swooned like some damsel in a romance novel. 

“My grandsons tell me you’re the reason they found me so quickly. That if it hadn’t been for you, they’d still be searching blindly.” It wasn’t just his eyes, his voice was absolutely mesmerising too. 

“They’re exaggerating. I helped some, but they would have found you without my help. And I definitely didn’t help with the jedi stuff!”

Elrohir groaned at that. “Can’t you just accept a thanks woman?”, he demanded irritably. 

“Of course I can, if I get one and I feel it’s justifiable!”

Maglor chuckled and turned to his grandson. “You know, the lady has a point. None of us thanked her, although I was getting there… and I believe you owe her a real apology child.” 

Elrohir blushed a deep, deep red at that. He gave his brother a helpless look, but Elladan just shrugged innocently as if to say “don’t ask me”. 

“I… apologise for being rude and unfriendly. I got the wrong impression… I thought you were Elladan’s mortal lover and was afraid for my brother’s sake. For his heartbreak. I don’t want to lose him you see, and I think you know what heartbreak can do to an Elf.”

“You thought _what_? I met Elladan _yesterday_ for fuck’s sake, how did you think we’d have had time to get up to something like that?”

Elrohir refused to answer that, he just shook his head miserably, and I melted at his woebegone expression. 

“I think I can forgive you, but please, in the future, give a girl a chance before you bite her head off will you? I like Elladan, and I think I could grow to like you as well, but not if you treat me like a leper. And enough with the apologising already, let’s have another drink and maybe sort a few things out!” 

The laughter that followed my last words was relieved. Elladan gave me a thankful look and a nod, and Glorfindel clapped me on the shoulder. We filled our glasses again and Erestor proposed a toast to finding what was lost, definitely something all of us could drink to. I couldn’t stop myself from launching into a quote from The Lord of the Rings, and we were all taken aback when it turned out Maglor had watched the movies several times. He had read the books too, which prompted me to ask if they represented the truth. 

They all looked at each other. Maglor shrugged, and the other elves grinned. 

“There are things that are correct, and things that are less so. Some of the details probably stem from the author’s own prejudices and opinions, while others might represent honest mistakes or faulty memories.” Glorfindel looked thoughtful. 

“Are you saying you met the Professor Fin?” My eyes were probably the size of dinner plates. 

“I did, but only once, during the Great War. I was working as a nurse, and as he’d fallen ill, he spent quite a bit of time in the hospital where I worked. He was already working on his stories at that time, and I must have let slip something or other… but he was feverish a lot of the time, and that may have affected his memory.”

Elladan and Elrohir confessed to having met Tolkien as well, but claimed they had told him very little, just a bit of the story of Beren and Lúthien. This made Maglor groan.

“So you were the ones who got him into that? I met the man a few times in Oxford, and he was obsessed with those two! I tried to tell him the truth, but he’d evidently made his mind up about who was the hero and who was the villain.” 

“So are there any elves the Professor didn’t meet? I am beginning to lose faith here…” I was more than a bit grouchy to be honest, it’s not fun to have your illusions turned into smithereens. 

“I never met him”, Erestor stated. “If I had, the stories would be correct.” 

To jeers and cheers, we filled our glasses with Irish whiskey once again and this time the toast was to truths, lies and Erestor. We polished off the bottle in a very short time, and then decided it was time to get some rest. I suspected they were being polite, as I definitely needed more sleep than any of them. Maglor would spend the night in the twins’ room, and we would all meet for breakfast next morning.

Just when they were at the door, I thought of something.

“You don’t suppose Sauron met… nah, never mind, that was an insane idea. Good night everyone!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, yes. This is it, but it feels like there's more to come.

**Author's Note:**

> This obsession might not be 100% fictive.


End file.
